Keraunophobia
by Ochiba Konpeki
Summary: Phobophobia: Keranophobia, fear of storms. Kyle hates storms.


_Dispersed from Phobophobia. See profile for details.  
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_Series of oneshots, probably mostly unrelated, to be written at my leisure, inspired by weird phobias. Mostly Kyle-centric, 'cause he's awesome._

**Keraunophobia**

Kenny sighed as the first crash of thunder sounded and the already feeble lights flickered overhead. Storms weren't common in South Park. Heavy snowfall and even blizzards, yes, but not actual storms, with thunder and lightening. Reluctantly, he pushed the covers away from his half-naked form, glancing anxiously at the window to see the rain splattered against the glass. His phone buzzed quietly and he glanced over to read _b there n a min_from Stan.

Yawning slightly, he shoved on shoes (sans socks) and pulled on his parka, not bothering with a shirt or changing out of his epic fuzzy pajama pants, and trapezed down the stairs, passing Karen, who kissed him on the cheek and told him to be careful, earning a confused look from the blond as the windows flashed and the thunder crashed and the lights went out.

Kenny flipped his hood up as he opened the door, seeing the outline of Stan's truck highlighted for a second by an impressive fork of lightening that made the brights he had on null for a moment. The rain felt like bullets on his skin as he raced to the truck, slamming the door open and closed and shaking like a dog when he was safely inside.

The hoodrat was confused, at first, when the truck didn't move, before he remembered the slightly grim-looking raven's strict safety rules and rushed to click on his seatbelt, only finding the slot when lightening illuminated their wet world once more.

The windshield wipers were working as hard as they could with little success, and their progress down the empty streets was snail-like, much to both boy's displeasure. The drive that would normally take only three or four minutes took twelve, and they hesitated in front of the completely dark Broflovski residence, reluctant to get wet. Another particularly loud clap of thunder sounded and Stan winced, immediately throwing open his door and marching determinedly towards the home, swiftly followed by his blond counterpart. The door was unlocked and the house was warm and dark, silent apart from the intense rain and harsh thunder.

Stan lead the way through the home, noting from the death of the clocks that the electricity had gone out and pausing momentarily to fumble for a flashlight in the kitchen, though he didn't bother to flick it on, instead tossing it to Kenny, who pocketed it as they continued their journey up to Kyle's room.

As the door creaked open under Stan's fingers, lightening illuminated the room briefly, revealing a scowling, blushing neo-Nazi who was awkwardly stroking up and down Kyle's back. The redhead himself was trembling against Eric's chest, jerking when thunder rumbled ominously and letting out a small cry of distress.

It was eight months ago now that they discovered Kyle's well-kept secret about storms.

The damp duo standing in the doorway chose not to question the presence of the other boy and instead rush towards the bed, throwing themselves on it. Stan took Kyle away from Eric, who looked relieved, and Kenny pressed the flashlight into Kyle's shaking hands. He was crying slightly and shuddered whenever the storm picked up, but flicked the flashlight on and laid it on the bed. The bulb was strong and the room was cast in faint light.

Kenny stroked Kyle's hair, earning a grateful if a little shaky smile as the frightened teen grasped Eric's hand tightly, pressing it against his chest like one might a Teddy bear, and the brunette moved closer, smoothing his thumb over the area below Kyle's collarbone. The keraunophobe buried his face in Stan's chest, allowing himself to be touched and held and comforted, because dammit, those storms were terrifying.

The three teens unfazed by the storm breathed a sigh of relief when the trembling of his shoulders gradually died down as he fell into a fitful sleep. He would probably wake up again if the thunder got too loud, but at least the conscious of the four could take the opportunity to regroup; there wasn't supposed to be a storm tonight and they had been caught off guard. Eric and Kenny gently detangled themselves but Stan merely held his super-best closer, earning a smirk from the blond.

"You got here first." Kenny observed quietly, getting a glare from their larger friend. "You must have headed here as soon as the rain started."

Eric glared, embarrassment clear on his face. "I'm the only thing allowed to scare him." he grumbled.

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